


will you call my name

by celestialfics



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Costume Parties & Masquerades, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 07:25:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14327502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestialfics/pseuds/celestialfics
Summary: “There’s someone here, I believe—well, I heard he would be coming.” Angela’s eyes skim across the crowd, in search for whoever “he” must be. Jesse has an inkling. “You and him used to… be friends. Though time pulls us all apart if we don’t actively try to stop it, I suppose.”





	will you call my name

**Author's Note:**

> retribution owns my ass. also i was listening to "don't you (forget about me)" and it gave me inspo for this fic along with some quote prompts from my friend sam. it was really fun to write and i hope you'll enjoy it!
> 
> i also made a mcgenji playlist on spotify so if that's your jam feel free to [check it out](https://open.spotify.com/user/todoroukis/playlist/0T5kU6zn44X77aPDf3TPWg?si=fJX_BLWpQUuFrkTr1Yud3Q)!

In all his life, Jesse McCree never would have expected to be in a situation such as this.

A rural shootout? Already happened. A car chase? It’s possible. A bank heist? He wouldn’t be surprised. But a  _masquerade ball_? He never would have imagined it.

Yet here he stands, clad in dress clothes far past his comfort level and wearing a plain black mask over his features. Angela stands at his side, dressed in something much more ornate and bedazzled than Jesse’s attire. She had asked of him to accompany her, and though Jesse had no doubts of ulterior motive on her part, he’d agreed. He wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t intrigued by the premise.

Though now that he’s here, he has a few regrets. This isn’t exactly… his  _scene._ Not that he particularly thought it would be, but it’s even less so than he expected. People are sipping from champagne flutes and milling about, prim and proper. Their postures are stiff and everyone can obviously tell who everyone else is, masks or not. It’s… quite frankly, ridiculous. And crowded.

“It’s charming, isn’t it?” Angela comments in contrast, nudging Jesse with her shoulder.

Jesse breaks from his thoughts. “More or less,” he replies, and Angela clicks her tongue to the roof of her mouth.

“I can tell you hate it.”

Jesse looks down at her. “I don’t hate it. Just not my thing.”

At this, she chuckles and shakes her head. She wears a white mask that resembles wings, and the feathers sway with her movement.

“Well, I brought you here for a reason,” Angela admits, though Jesse had expected so all along. It’s not unusual for her to go out of her way to do things that will benefit others, and Jesse wouldn’t expect her to actually invite him for her own needs. Of course there would be something else.

“And  _I_ thought you just enjoyed my company,” Jesse teases, causing her to roll her eyes. “But, go on.”

“There’s someone here, I believe—well, I heard he would be coming.” Angela’s eyes skim across the crowd, in search for whoever “he” must be. Jesse has an inkling. “You and him used to… be friends. Though time pulls us all apart if we don’t actively try to stop it, I suppose.”

Jesse bites the inside of his cheek. He usually has his cigar, but Angela dislikes smoking and he’s sure it wouldn’t be appreciated in a place such as this. “Genji’s here?” he inquires carefully, quietly.

“Yes, Genji. Or I  _heard_ he would be here. It’s a bit hard to tell who’s who from a distance.”

And, well, to an extent, what Angela had said is true. Jesse and Genji had been something more than friends and had worked together for an underground organization some years in the past. Genji was troubled—they all were, but he especially so—following the betrayal of his brother and the fixture of new prosthetics. Genji rarely spoke, and Jesse rarely pried. But out of all of his colleagues, Jesse felt he could trust Genji the most. They had some deep rooted respect for each other, and as far as Jesse knew, the trust was mutual. But, like Angela said, time pulls everyone apart. Especially when there’s no way to keep in touch.

The prospect of seeing Genji again tonight fills Jesse with some unfamiliar emotions, some of which clash. Excitement, dread. Nostalgia, regret. And something deeper, something that he can’t quite name.

Angela tilts her head curiously at Jesse’s silence, and so he clears his throat. “I’ll keep an eye out, then,” he says, lifting a hand to scratch the back of his neck.

The response satisfies Angela enough, and not a moment later, her attention is caught elsewhere. She wanders from Jesse’s side to meet someone a little ways away, navigating through the crowd to get there, thus leaving Jesse alone in the crowd of people.

Jesse makes his way to the outskirts of the room, giving himself a bit of space to breathe. Someone breezes past and pushes a champagne flute into his hand, so he downs it and sets the empty glass on the table beside him.

He watches the people move about the room; they move like clockwork, not a piece out of place. Dresses sparkle and heads tilt back with laughter, more mingling occuring than dancing. The night is still new.

Jesse leans back against the wall, a hand slipping to rest in his pocket. His gaze leisurely sweeps over the multitude of masked faces, almost as if he isn’t looking for anyone in particular.

 _Almost_. Because when Jesse spots him, his mind goes otherwise blank. He’s certain that it’s Genji; the green dragon mask gives him away, not to mention his unmistakable stature. Jesse stares for a second, then two, like the world has frozen. Except it hasn’t, and Genji is gone in the crowd once again only a moment later.

Hit with a sudden sense of urgency, Jesse heads straight into the crowd, beelining for where he’d seen Genji. With a multitude of “pardon me”s and “sorry, excuse me”s, Jesse makes it some ways through the crowd. He stops, though, before reaching his target. Because, what is he meant to say? Or  _do_? It’s been years. Barging up to Genji would probably be unwelcome.

Awkwardly standing amidst others who chatter and smile, Jesse loses his nerve. But keeping still in a room of churning people isn’t exactly a brilliant idea, and a moment later someone bumps into Jesse’s back.

He turns to apologize, but the words catch in his throat.

“I’m sorry—McCree?” Genji stands beside him, and Jesse stares. His facial scars are partially visible, half hidden under his mask.

“Genji,” he replies, clearing his throat and acting like he hadn’t just been startled, “It’s good to see you. Been forever, hasn’t it?”

Genji nods, his mouth pulling into a close-lipped grin. Jesse’s eyes wander to the person who stands beside Genji so that he doesn’t stare at the smile, because he’s taken aback by the simple gesture. The Genji that Jesse had known rarely, if ever, smiled. For Genji to smile so easily causes something warm to light in Jesse’s chest.

“McCree, this is Zenyatta,” Genji introduces, pulling Jesse from his thoughts. “He is a dear friend of mine. Zenyatta, this is McCree. We know each other from years ago.”

Jesse holds out his hand to Zenyatta, giving him a firm handshake. “Nice to meet ya’,” he says with a nod.

“The pleasure is mine,” Zenyatta returns. The way he speaks, holds himself, and gestures are all serene. If this is the type of company Genji keeps now, perhaps he would like to leave Jesse in the past. Jesse swallows thickly.

“How have you been, McCree?” Genji speaks, voice portraying genuine curiosity.

Jesse holds Genji’s gaze firmly with his own. “Well,” he responds curtly. “Yourself?”

“I’ve been well. I’ve come to terms with many things.” Genji breaks their eye contact to look down at his hands. Zenyatta smiles softly beside him.

“Is that so? I’m happy for you, Genji,” Jesse replies. He can tell already from this brief exchange that Genji has changed exponentially over the years.

“That means a lot, coming from you,” Genji responds genuinely. He’s smiling again. Jesse could get used to seeing that.

Jesse grins back and nods, and then there’s a slight lull in conversation. For a moment, Jesse thinks Genji and Zenyatta will depart, but he’s only half right.

Zenyatta tilts his head, eyes narrowing as he looks at something—or rather, someone—across the room. “I believe I’ve spotted Lúcio,” he comments. “I’d rather like to catch up with him. McCree, am I wrong to think you’ll keep Genji company?”

“Sure, I can do that,” Jesse responds, casting another slight grin to Genji. His prior nervousness has practically melted away.

So, Zenyatta quits them, and Jesse and Genji fall into a rhythm with the rest of the partygoers around them. They aren’t touching, but they’re close enough to be. Many more people have taken to dancing since Jesse last observed, and the music has gotten louder. Still, he refrains from offering his hand to Genji. Somehow, this doesn’t yet feel entirely real.

“What have you been up to?” Jesse asks to break the conversational lull.

“I travel with Zenyatta. He has helped me greatly, and I enjoy his company. And you, McCree?”

Jesse had missed Genji’s voice. He didn’t realize that until now.

“I’ve, ah—” He breaks off. He hasn’t changed nearly as much as Genji has. Will he be disappointed? Jesse shakes the thought. “I’ve been doing for-hire work.”

Genji blinks and then nods slowly.

“What brings you here?” They both speak at the same time and then freeze, looking at each other for a second before breaking into easy laughter.

“Angela invited me,” Jesse responds first, not keen to mention the fact she’d invited him just so he’d see Genji.

“Ah, so this is not a coincidence,” Genji says, and Jesse raises an eyebrow. “Angela invited me as well,” he explains.

Jesse blinks once, twice. “Oh,” he says. His eyes dart over to Angela, who is conveniently in sight. (Or, she’s watching them.) She blows Jesse a kiss and then flutters her fingers daintily in a wave, confirming his suspicions.

He clears his throat. So, there’s no use in postponing this.

“May I have this dance, Genji?” Jesse asks, trying to come across as nonchalant. He’s out of place here; he doesn’t fit in with the glittering people around him. Even so, he outstretches a hand between them, and Genji looks down at it and then back up at Jesse.

“You may,” he responds softly, laying his hand in Jesse’s and then setting his other upon Jesse’s shoulder. Jesse wraps his arm beneath Genji’s.

They sway together, then, and after a moment Genji takes a half-step closer, so their chests are barely apart. One shift and they would press together.

“It’s been a long time,” Jesse says suddenly, and after he’s said it he’s not quite sure why he did. The fact is obvious.

“It has,” Genji agrees. “I’m glad to see you, though.”

Jesse’s lips quirk upwards. “Yeah, it’s good to see you. It’s good to see you’re well.”

“I imagine you’re surprised,” Genji comments, eyes flickering between Jesse’s eyes and his own hand on Jesse’s shoulder.

“In a good way,” Jesse responds. His mouth is inexplicably dry. The room feels hot, and the people around them continue to move—always, perpetually in motion.

Genji smiles at Jesse’s words. Jesse’s heart is caught in his throat. He hasn’t felt this in a long, long time.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to just get out of here for awhile?” he asks suddenly, and Genji looks up at him with curious eyes. “It’s stuffy, crowded, the like.”

Genji hesitates a moment, his bottom lip taken between his teeth. “Yeah, let’s get out of here,” he says.

“You’re sure Zenyatta—?”

“He’s with Lúcio; he’s fine. I’ll text him.”

“Okay, okay.”

“And Angela?”

Jesse laughs. “She’ll be glad to get rid of me.”

Genji cracks a smile and then slides his arms away from Jesse, but keeps a gentle grip on Jesse’s elbow to pull him through the crowd.

They’re out the door quickly, and Genji stops on the lawn in front of the building. He turns and faces Jesse again before he says, “The fresh air is nice.”

Jesse nods, “Indeed. Way too many people in there for my liking.”

There’s a brief silence, and then Genji speaks: “McCree, can I be honest for a moment?”

Jesse’s eyebrows furrow, and he tries to read Genji’s expression but it’s near impossible while he still wears his mask. “Sure, go ahead,” he responds.

“The only reason I came to this was because Angela told me you’d be here.” Genji lifts a hand to scratch the back of his neck.

“You—Really?” Jesse asks, disbelief palpable in his tone.

Genji nods slowly, seemingly embarrassed.

“Ha, Angela didn’t even tell me ‘til we got here. Guess she knows I take less convincing. But I’m glad anyway,” Jesse states, amused.

“I’m glad, too.”

“I’ve missed ya’, you know.” Jesse has the courage to admit it by now. “It’s nice to catch up. It’s nice to see how you’ve changed.”

“I wanted you to see,” Genji responds immediately. “I thought—you’d be proud.”

Jesse lifts a hand to move Genji’s mask from his face. He pushes it up into his hair. “Hey, you got that right.”

Genji follows suit, lifting his own hand to slide Jesse’s mask away from his eyes. They each leave their hands sit, frozen in the moment. It’s new—welcome. Jesse feels like somewhere deep down, he always knew this moment was going to happen. He doesn’t know how, or if that’s even remotely true. But right now, if only for a second, he believes in fate.

Genji lifts his other hand—a prosthetic—to hold Jesse’s hand against his face. Genji’s face feels hot to the touch. Then, the hand that had moved Jesse’s mask slips down to rest on Jesse’s waist. Jesse takes the hint and swoops his head down, catching Genji’s lips in his own. Genji leans up onto his tiptoes to press his mouth harder against Jesse’s, and Jesse smiles into the kiss, amused at the enthusiastic action.

“Woah there,” he pulls only slightly away to murmur, eyes flickering open to see Genji’s still closed.

Genji opens his eyes and blinks. “I’m sorry, was that not—”

Jesse chuckles lowly and shakes his head, leaning back in to kiss Genji again. Genji melts more naturally into it this time, and Jesse’s hands fall down to hold his lower back. Their lips connect and part again and again, the sound nearing obscene in Jesse’s ears.

He pulls away in due time—after all, they’re on a public lawn in front of a building hosting a  _ball_ —and he stares at Genji, breathless.

Genji stares back, and then smiles. “Missed you,” he says, pushing up on his toes for a final chaste kiss, “Jesse.”

“My name’s always sounded good coming from your mouth,” Jesse says without thinking, his natural nonchalance fully returned.

Genji blushes and looks away, but Jesse lifts a hand to gently turn his face back.

“Did you want to go back inside?” Jesse inquires, even though the suggestion is entirely undesirable to him.

Genji’s response is instantaneous: “You’re the only person I want to be with tonight.”

Jesse sputters. He’ll have to thank Angela later. 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/liquidsaints) & [tumblr](http://liquidsaints.tumblr.com/)
> 
> thanks for reading! <3


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